“Wickedness or not，” said the traveller with the twistedstaff， “I have a very general acquaintance here in NewEngland. The deacons of many a church have drunk thecommunion wine with me； the selectmen， of divers towns，make me their chairman； and a majority of the Great andGeneral Court are firm supporters of my interest. Thegovernor and I， too—but these are state-secrets.”
“Can this be so！” cried Goodman Brown， with a stareof amazement at his undisturbed companion. “Howbeit，I have nothing to do with the governor and council；they have their own ways， and are no rule for a simplehusbandman like me. But， were I to go on with thee， howshould I meet the eye of that good old man， our minister，at Salem village？ Oh， his voice would make me tremble，both Sabbath-day and lecture-day！”
Thus far， the elder traveller had listened with due gravity，but now burst into a fit of irrepressible mirth， shakinghimself so violently that his snake-like staff actually seemedto wriggle in sympathy.
“Ha！ ha！ ha！” shouted he， again and again； thencomposing himself， “Well， go on， Goodman Brown， go on；but， pr’y thee， don’t kill me with laughing！”
“Well， then， to end the matter at once，” said GoodmanBrown， considerably nettled， “there is my wife， Faith. Itwould break her dear little heart； and I’d rather break myown！”
“Nay， if that be the case，” answered the other， “e’en gothy ways， Goodman Brown. I would not， for twenty oldwomen like the one hobbling before us， that Faith shouldcome to any harm.”
As he spoke， he pointed his staff at a female figure onthe path， in whom Goodman Brown recognized a verypious and exemplary dame， who had taught him hiscatechism in youth， and was still his moral and spiritualadviser， jointly with the minister and Deacon Gookin.
“A marvel， truly， that Goody Cloyse should be so farin the wilderness， at night-fall！” said he. “But， with yourleave， friend， I shall take a cut through the woods， until wehave left this Christian woman behind. Being a strangerto you， she might ask whom I was consorting with， andwhither I was going.”
“Be it so，” said his fellow-traveller. “Betake you to thewoods， and let me keep the path.”
Accordingly， the young man turned aside， but took careto watch his companion， who advanced softly along theroad， until he had come within a staff’s length of the olddame. She， meanwhile， was making the best of her way，with singular speed for so aged a woman， and mumblingsome indistinct words， a prayer， doubtless， as she went.
The traveller put forth his staff， and touched her witheredneck with what seemed the serpent’s tail.
“The devil！” screamed the pious old lady.
“Then Goody Cloyse knows her old friend？” observedthe traveller， confronting her， and leaning on his writhingstick.
“Ah， forsooth， and is it your worship， indeed？” cried thegood dame. “Yea， truly is it， and in the very image of myold gossip， Goodman Brown， the grandfather of the sillyfellow that now is. But—would your worship believe it？
—my broomstick hath strangely disappeared， stolen， as Isuspect， by that unhanged witch， Goody Cory， and that，too， when I was all anointed with the juice of smallage andcinque-foil and wolf’s-bane—”
“Mingled with fine wheat and the fat of a new-bornbabe，” said the shape of old Goodman Brown.
“Ah， your worship knows the recipe，” cried the old lady，cackling aloud. “So， as I was saying， being all ready for themeeting， and no horse to ride on， I made up my mind to footit； for they tell me， there is a nice young man to be takeninto communion to-night. But now your good worship willlend me your arm， and we shall be there in a twinkling.”
“That can hardly be，” answered her friend. “I may notspare you my arm， Goody Cloyse， but here is my staff， ifyou will.”
So saying， he threw it down at her feet， where， perhaps，it assumed life， being one of the rods which its owner hadformerly lent to Egyptian Magi. Of this fact， however，Goodman Brown could not take cognizance. He had castup his eyes in astonishment， and looking down again，beheld neither Goody Cloyse nor the serpentine staff， buthis fellow-traveller alone， who waited for him as calmly asif nothing had happened.
“That old woman taught me my catechism！” said theyoung man； and there was a world of meaning in thissimple comment.
They continued to walk onward， while the elder travellerexhorted his companion to make good speed and perseverein the path， discoursing so aptly， that his arguments seemedrather to spring up in the bosom of his auditor， than to besuggested by himself. As they went， he plucked a branchof maple， to serve for a walking-stick， and began to stripit of the twigs and little boughs， which were wet withevening dew. The moment his fingers touched them， theybecame strangely withered and dried up， as with a week’ssunshine. Thus the pair proceeded， at a good free pace，until suddenly， in a gloomy hollow of the road， GoodmanBrown sat himself down on the stump of a tree， andrefused to go any farther.
“Friend，” said he， stubbornly， “my mind is made up.
Not another step will I budge on this errand. What if awretched old woman do choose to go to the devil， when Ithought she was going to Heaven！ Is that any reason why Ishould quit my dear Faith， and go after her？”
“You will think better of this by-and-by，” said hisacquaintance， composedly. “Sit here and rest yourselfawhile； and when you feel like moving again， there is mystaff to help you along.”
Without more words， he threw his companion themaple stick， and was as speedily out of sight， as if he hadvanished into the deepening gloom. The young man sat afew moments by the road-side， applauding himself greatly，and thinking with how clear a conscience he should meetthe minister， in his morning-walk， nor shrink from the eyeof good old Deacon Gookin. And what calm sleep wouldbe his， that very night， which was to have been spent sowickedly， but purely and sweetly now， in the arms of Faith！
